The oil lantern was put out. The orange embers of the fire were the only things lighting the warehouse. Saul was on first watch. He sat with his back against the aluminum garage door and his knees tucked up to his chest. Ever so often his hand would reach out through the darkness to make sure his backpack still sat safely beside him. His fingers traced the familiar outlines of the books through the canvas. They all felt different, and he could tell them apart just by touch. The fire crackled from time to time which was a nice break from the dead silence. Young Saul was now the only one left awake. His three other companions were spread in a circle surrounding the fire.
His hand brushed over the notebook and his gaze turned to the large man and his sister lying to the left of Saul. It was their notebook. The man was called Floyd, and Eliza was his sister. Saul didn’t know much about either of them; they had only been travelling together for a couple days. All Saul understood was that the siblings were simple folk.
“This is probably the farthest they’ve ever been from home,” the boy thought. His attention turned to Floyd. The man was huge. Even in his sleep he cast an impressive figure. Floyd had given Saul the notebook for safekeeping. The older man understood the boy’s interest in books and knew he’d take care of it better than anyone else.
The fire let off a pop and Saul jolted back into reality. His right hand still rested on the backpack. He shifted his legs from below his chin. The garage door creaked. His young eyes, now well adjusted to the dim light, surveyed the inside of the building. It was a warehouse of a sort, filled with water damaged tables and broken chairs. It was just one room. There were three doorless frames that led to the outside, and no windows. A heap of bicycles was stacked in the corner opposite the sleeping travelers and their teenage watchman. The chrome of the bike frames glowed, reflecting the pile of embers that Saul now stoked with a broken table leg.
He laid the piece of wood beside the fire and unzipped his bag. His hands felt the notebook and he carefully slid it out of its place in the pack. He placed the book on his lap and gently opened it. The fire’s newfound life gave off enough of a glow for Saul to make out the notebook’s contents. The penmanship was scratchy and quick. The mathematical equations were foreign to the kid. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but he kept reading; he knew that this notebook was important. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable and the strange formulas were a novel vacation from the dusty history and heavy literature he normally read.
The embers slowly burned out, growing dimmer and dimmer each time Saul turned a page. When he finally reached the end the embers were on their dying breath. Saul slid the notebook safely back into his bag and slowly zipped it closed. He reached out for the table leg and poked around in the near dead coals. In his mind he went over each page of the notebook he just finished ingesting. He was a smart boy, he’d been reading for as long as he remembered, and his inability to figure this thing out frustrated him. He was stressed now.
He tried not to think of anything at all, focusing intently on the glowing embers. Even in the quiet and dark, with the book hidden away, the equations flashed through his mind. He had to find someone to explain it all to him. Saul wasn’t comfortable with ignorance, and refused to let the book get the best of him. He’d go to the Lorekeepers. They would know what to do. They were the scholars of this world. Maybe he could even join them and spend the rest of his days reading in comfort, not sleeping in warehouses with strangers. This wasn’t the life he deserved. He was a thinking man, not an adventurer.
These thoughts calmed him down. The Lorekeepers would figure it all out. He thought of Floyd and Eliza and wondered how easily they would part with the book. From what he gathered it was their late father’s possession. It probably meant something to them, even though they probably understood less of it than Saul did.
He was calm again, now. The mental struggle exhausted him and he leaned forward, putting his hand on Floyd’s shoulder.
“Floyd,” he whispered as he shook. He tried again, louder this time, “Floyd!”
The man woke and looked up into Saul’s eyes. He slowly worked himself into a sitting position and said, “Thanks for keeping watch, kid. Get some rest, now. You need it.”
Saul smiled and laid down on his side, turning his back towards the fire. He pulled his bag under his head and faced the cold aluminum of the garage. The warmth slowly crept up his back. He felt safe with Floyd on duty and his books beneath him.
As he drifted into sleep his thoughts turned again to the math equations. He knew he couldn’t solve the puzzle. He realized he couldn’t know everything. The frustration of before was replaced with a thrill, the thrill of the unknown, of mystery, and of the hunt. The book wasn’t an obstacle it was a labyrinth. He felt purpose and wholeness. He would get to the end of it or find someone who could.
His eyes slowly shut. The horizontal lines of the garage door grew blurry and faint. Saul fell asleep.
His hand brushed over the notebook and his gaze turned to the large man and his sister lying to the left of Saul. It was their notebook. The man was called Floyd, and Eliza was his sister. Saul didn’t know much about either of them; they had only been travelling together for a couple days. All Saul understood was that the siblings were simple folk.
“This is probably the farthest they’ve ever been from home,” the boy thought. His attention turned to Floyd. The man was huge. Even in his sleep he cast an impressive figure. Floyd had given Saul the notebook for safekeeping. The older man understood the boy’s interest in books and knew he’d take care of it better than anyone else.
The fire let off a pop and Saul jolted back into reality. His right hand still rested on the backpack. He shifted his legs from below his chin. The garage door creaked. His young eyes, now well adjusted to the dim light, surveyed the inside of the building. It was a warehouse of a sort, filled with water damaged tables and broken chairs. It was just one room. There were three doorless frames that led to the outside, and no windows. A heap of bicycles was stacked in the corner opposite the sleeping travelers and their teenage watchman. The chrome of the bike frames glowed, reflecting the pile of embers that Saul now stoked with a broken table leg.
He laid the piece of wood beside the fire and unzipped his bag. His hands felt the notebook and he carefully slid it out of its place in the pack. He placed the book on his lap and gently opened it. The fire’s newfound life gave off enough of a glow for Saul to make out the notebook’s contents. The penmanship was scratchy and quick. The mathematical equations were foreign to the kid. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but he kept reading; he knew that this notebook was important. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable and the strange formulas were a novel vacation from the dusty history and heavy literature he normally read.
The embers slowly burned out, growing dimmer and dimmer each time Saul turned a page. When he finally reached the end the embers were on their dying breath. Saul slid the notebook safely back into his bag and slowly zipped it closed. He reached out for the table leg and poked around in the near dead coals. In his mind he went over each page of the notebook he just finished ingesting. He was a smart boy, he’d been reading for as long as he remembered, and his inability to figure this thing out frustrated him. He was stressed now.
He tried not to think of anything at all, focusing intently on the glowing embers. Even in the quiet and dark, with the book hidden away, the equations flashed through his mind. He had to find someone to explain it all to him. Saul wasn’t comfortable with ignorance, and refused to let the book get the best of him. He’d go to the Lorekeepers. They would know what to do. They were the scholars of this world. Maybe he could even join them and spend the rest of his days reading in comfort, not sleeping in warehouses with strangers. This wasn’t the life he deserved. He was a thinking man, not an adventurer.
These thoughts calmed him down. The Lorekeepers would figure it all out. He thought of Floyd and Eliza and wondered how easily they would part with the book. From what he gathered it was their late father’s possession. It probably meant something to them, even though they probably understood less of it than Saul did.
He was calm again, now. The mental struggle exhausted him and he leaned forward, putting his hand on Floyd’s shoulder.
“Floyd,” he whispered as he shook. He tried again, louder this time, “Floyd!”
The man woke and looked up into Saul’s eyes. He slowly worked himself into a sitting position and said, “Thanks for keeping watch, kid. Get some rest, now. You need it.”
Saul smiled and laid down on his side, turning his back towards the fire. He pulled his bag under his head and faced the cold aluminum of the garage. The warmth slowly crept up his back. He felt safe with Floyd on duty and his books beneath him.
As he drifted into sleep his thoughts turned again to the math equations. He knew he couldn’t solve the puzzle. He realized he couldn’t know everything. The frustration of before was replaced with a thrill, the thrill of the unknown, of mystery, and of the hunt. The book wasn’t an obstacle it was a labyrinth. He felt purpose and wholeness. He would get to the end of it or find someone who could.
His eyes slowly shut. The horizontal lines of the garage door grew blurry and faint. Saul fell asleep.